Ivy League
by Hotshot
Summary: Josh's family is rich. That's all there is to it. He's rich and spoiled and completely hates his parents like any normal teenager. Why not try being a newsie? Well for one he isn't exactly used to working for a living. Original Charachter-Harvard
1. Not a Time for Games

Disclaimer: Ok, well there aren't any newsies in this yet.  For this chapter I own Joshua, Henry, and their parents, Madison, Caleb, Andrew, Cole, Blake, and Alex are mine.  So are their families and any other person I may have mentioned.  There will be newsies soon, and then I will tell you that Disney owns them and give a list of reasons for you not to sue me.

Ivy League

Chapter 1

By Hotshot

            The six year old clutched his mother's hand in the New York train station.  His brown eyes were wide as he took in his surroundings.  They'd been in New York for nearly a month, him and his mother.  Even after that time the skyscrapers and all those buildings still intrigued him.  But then he was only six years old so the entire world seemed bigger to him.

            "Joshua," His mother pulled roughly on his arm as she spoke, "Come on the train will be here momentarily."  She pulled him along behind her until they reached a platform, and then released his hand to give their tickets to a conductor.  As she spoke to the man he fumbled with his jacket and the dressy clothes she made him wear.  Suddenly an idea sprang upon him.

            Joshua looked at his mother and quickly scurried off to hide behind a trashcan.  Hide-and-seek was his favorite game, and as long as he could remember it was all he and his mother ever played.  He laughed and moved out of her sight.

            "Joshua," she soon realized he was missing, "Damnit Joshua, get out here.  We don't have time for this.  Young man get out here this instant. Joshua."

            He giggled again from his ingenious hiding spot.

            "Josh, we don't have time for this."  She threw up her hands as the train pulled in and people began boarding.  She looked at the conductor, "When's the next train?"

            "Not for a few days ma'am." The conductor answered before moving to help an elderly couple get their things onto the train.

            Joshua was laughing harder.  He was laughing so hard he could barely stand.  When he'd gotten control of himself he looked back around the side of the trashcan.  His mother wasn't there.  Any giggling immediately stopped.  His mother wouldn't have left him would she?  Suddenly a thwack on the back of his head made him turn around.  His mother was very angry and red in the face.  He turned on the waterworks, both due to the pain in his head, and to the fact that he was scared.

            She shook her head, "I don't want to hear it.  It serves you right for sneaking away like that.  We almost missed our train."  She straightened his jacket.  She could barely lean down to pick him up her corset was so tight.  She finally succeeded in picking him up and carried him onto the train.  She dropped him into the seat across from her and glared into his direction.  "What were you thinking running off like that," she snapped.

            The young boy barely managed to get an angry answer out to his mother, "I wanted to play."

            "You wanted to play," She threw her arms up in the air. "Joshua, there are times when it's ok to play, but not when we're someplace important.  You have to grow up; it's not going to be all fun and games, as you get older.  Now get some sleep."

            He settled into the seat, afraid to even question his angry mother.  His stomach grumbled a bit but he ignored it and moved into a more comfortable position.  He almost jumped as the train pulled out of the station but refrained himself.

            Before I go any farther it may be a good thing to describe this little boy.  He was chubby, but all children his age still have some baby fat on them, and he was short.  His eyes were big and dark, it was hard to explain, but they were a severely deep brown.  His hair was also dark brown.  Most members of his family had curly hair, but his was extremely straight, and as it was kept long fell to either side of his head.  It also began to curl, as it got longer though.  His clothes were almost impeccably kept, the appropriate clothes to show his family's standing in society.  Silks and finely tailored suits, even for one so young.

            A sudden brake bolted him awake.  He looked out the window to find they were back in his home.  The scenery was familiar and lacked the cityness of New York.  His mother's hand was quickly on his shoulder.  "Come along, get up.  And this is not a time for games" 

He slid to the floor from his seat, and she bent down, quickly trying to straighten his wrinkled clothes.  It was a task, seeing as he fidgeted most of the time.  She straightened up when she thought he looked presentable and take his hand, "Now don't wander off."

**Ten Years Later**

He was sixteen-and-a-half now.  That half was very important in his mind.  For most young men it brought them freedom.  He'd changed plenty in that time, gained a little control of his life.  His hair, instead of the longer look his parents had adored throughout his early childhood was cut reasonably short.  It was long enough to stick out to the sides and top a little so, not quite a crew cut, but not long enough to fall into place.  The best part was that it drove his mother insane.  

He was much taller now, as one normally does quite a bit of growing between six and sixteen.  Thinner too, though his arms and legs were more muscular.  He played baseball with several friends, and a European sport that was introduced by a foreign diplomat's son.  He was far more physically active than most.

His mother hated it.  She loathed the fact that he was more interested in sports, or anything else for that matter, more than his studies.  His father was a governor for God's sake.  He was going to be going to one of the finest schools in the country as soon as possible, and all he cared about was playing baseball with his friends, walking around the city, basically anything but brood over his books for hours every night.

The only thing she could keep control of were the clothes he wore and that was just barely.  He was still dressed in the finest suits, silks, and whatever else she though to be in style every night at his parents' dinner parties.  School was always the same uniform, and of course he had to be at least presentable at any public appearance.  The only problem was he'd ruined so many sets of clothes playing sports that she'd been forced to buy him something less.

He was doing this right at the moment; driving her insane.  He sat in the front yard playing catch with his younger brother, a five-year-old.  He'd throw the ball as far as he could and Henry would run after it and bring it back.  He'd stop about five feet from his brother and try to throw it, but he was too little.  It was fine with Josh though; he'd just scoop it up and throw it again.      

She stepped out onto the porch as her younger son ran after the ball and called out, "Joshua."

He turned to look at her, "Yes mother." He forced an ounce of affection into his voice.  

Even with her age she was still beautiful.  His mother's dark hair was streaked with gray and she'd gained weight over the past ten years but could still dress herself so that she looked years younger.  Her style was the same as many of the wives of other diplomats.  Joshua couldn't help but grin, he was the cause of most of those gray hairs, and proud of it.

"Dinner is in an hour.  Bring you brother inside and give him to the nanny.  Then get dressed.  Come down to your father's office as soon as you're ready."

"Who's house are we going to tonight?" he asked, scooping up the baseball into his mitt.  He scoped up his younger brother in the other arm and began to walk toward the stairs.

"The Woods'." She said swiftly, "And Joshua, you had better be in something presentable when you come downstairs tonight."

"Yes ma'am," he nodded, and she quickly disappeared from sight.  Henry began to wiggle to be put down.  He carefully dropped his younger brother on the first step and took hold of his hand.  He released his brother when they reached the main stairway and allowed him to scamper up the stairs.  Henry waited at the top however and Joshua brought him down to the third room, where his nanny was waiting.

"Josh, are you gonna come say goodnight when you get home?" Henry asked.

"Of course," Joshua said, "I always do." He knew very well that he wouldn't.  Henry would be asleep long before he arrived home, and as long as he said he had the next morning his brother never knew the difference.  He ran a hand through his brother's thick curls and turned to leave the room, taking a second to wink at Henry's nanny.  She was a lower-class girl who barely looked to be Joshua's age.  She immediately blushed and turned to the task of changing the younger boy's dirt-covered clothes.

Joshua walked at a leisurely pace up the stairs and down the hall to his room, tossing the old baseball he'd been throwing around for hours outside.  One of the family's many butler's stood outside the door.  

"Your mother wishes that I hurry you along.  In ten minutes I ought to be entering your room and dragging you downstairs." He said, a bit of a grin on his face.

Joshua grinned back, "Thanks for the warning Roald."  He entered his room and closed the door behind him.  Tuning on a lamp he found, to his great distaste, a new suit laid out on his bed.  He made a face as he looked it over, but at least it was blue this time.  He dressed in what had to be record time and was ready before Roald had to knock on the door.

His mother and father were still in the office rather than the front hall when he reached the bottom floor.  His mother actually rose from her chair as he entered.

"Joshua, darling you look wonderful," she said, straightening his jacket as she saw fit.

He rolled his eyes.  It would be another perfectly scripted night.  No matter how often they went out his parents still said the exact same thing to him.  His life was full of 'oh, you look wonderfuls' and 'that suit looks brilliants' and god only knows what else.  It was really a boring cycle after a while.

"Shall we go then?" his father asked taking his coat from one of the servants, "We don't want to be late."

"Of course not," his wife agreed, taking his arm.

Joshua followed them silently out of the house, and climbed into the carriage behind them.  While not quite as prone to nagging and getting on his case about everything Joshua's father was a man who expected his orders to be followed and everyone to know exactly what to do.  He expected Joshua to always know what he was thinking and act wisely, which more often than not was not the case.

Their father was the first out of the carriage when they arrived, and moved to speak with the valet.  This left Joshua and his mother sitting alone.  As it was polite to let a lady out first Joshua was forced to sit, and not leave.  He knew exactly what was coming and yet could not do anything to stop it.

"I don't want you getting into any trouble tonight, Joshua," she started after a moment's silence had passed between them.  "I know that last time that Black boy had some alcohol, and you have caused trouble on several other occasions."  She continued as he let out an annoyed sigh.  "I know that you do not care Joshua, but I will not let you disgrace our family's good name, or your own reputation.  Your behavior is barely what I expect from lower class children often enough, but I expect you to start shaping up. In less than two years you will be at one of the finest law schools in the country, an Ivy League college, just like your father, hopefully Harvard.  You will need to impress them if you want to be successful, and that means shelving your childish behavior, are you listening to me?"

"Yes ma'am, shelving my childish behavior." He responded automatically.

"Good, and if you disgrace me tonight boy, so help me…" she trailed off giving him that warning look that only a mother can give her children.  She then turned quickly and accepted her husband's hand to help her out of the carriage.  Joshua climbed out after her and followed his parents up the front walk.

A servant at the door took their coats and they started down the hall to the room where the guests were congregating.  Before entering Anita turned to face her son again.  She straightened his collar a final time and looked him straight in the eye.  "What time-"

Joshua cut her off quickly and with a devilish grin, "It is not a time for games."

"Very good," she said, not quite believing him.

They entered the room, which was already filled with people, the high class in New Hampshire government.  The onslaught of greetings was almost instantaneous.  Other noticed his parents and began to call out greetings and come over.  Mrs. Black was quick to point out how wonderful he looked in his new suit.  She was what his mother referred to as new money, and someone to be avoided.  She was also significantly younger than most of the other women there, which was enough reason for Joshua to ignore his mother's wishes for a short period of time when he saw her.  He did, however, quickly excuse himself from the group of mingling adults.

"Josh," a voice came from across the room, followed quickly by several others.

"Hey, Wainrib!"

"Joshua."

"Hey, rich boy."

With a grin he strolled casually over to his friends who had picked a usual corner table to seek refuge in for the evening.  Five boys, close to his age if not older, and a girl their age were seated around one of the several circular tables that littered the room.  He collapsed happily into the last seat.

"My mother will shoot you if she hears you call me Josh, Woods," he warned with a quick look at his friend.

"You can't honestly tell me you prefer Joshua?" Caleb glanced at him with a knowing look on his face, "Besides it's not like she even knows you're gone."

Other than Caleb, around the table sat Andrew Brown, Blake O'Handley, Alexander Dark, and Cole Modermo.  They were the sons of the most powerful men in New Hampshire, and probably the rest of New England as well.

"So, you're saying she wouldn't be the least bit perturbed about that rich-boy jab," the final member of their group spoke calmly.

Josh crossed his arms and leaned forward to the table looking straight across, "Nah, Madison, with the way she sees your family she'd probably be saying the same thing.  Oh, and by the way, you're mother was hitting on me again." 

"Wish my parents saw it that way," Madison Black said laughing.  She rolled her eyes, "And as for my mother, well, while I don't condone her behavior it is sort of fun watching you squirm." Madison was the only girl that the boys allowed into their 'private' group.  Her parents being new money none of their parents exactly wanted their sons to take an interest in her, but she had an attitude that was similar to theirs, having grown up with three older brothers. She fit in with them.

"I'm sure you love it, maybe even want to get in on the action yourself," Josh played along, "I mean, I know you've been trying to catch my attention with those provocative little dresses you wear."

"You think it's fun wearing a corset, Wainrib.  Honestly, I dare any of you to try for a night and see how long you last." She shook her head in his general direction; it was typical behavior among them.

"As I was saying," Caleb interjected, "I was just telling the rest of the boys-"

"Ahem."

"And Madison about the weekly dare."

It was their most sacred tradition, from back when the group was small, and they were perhaps only about ten.  They'd made a tradition out of a group of children Alex had watched playing 'truth or dare' in the park.  Their version however was slightly modified.  Every week one of them would come up with a dare.  It began as something small like stealing something from someone's handbag, or putting something disgusting in someone's food.  As they grew older it became drinking and smoking, or perhaps some type of elaborate gag if Caleb was the one making it up.  You didn't have to do it, though most often all of them did, but if you didn't the others would get on your case about it, and if you were the only one who succeeded you had specific bragging rights until you were outdone.  Most of these gags and tricks had landed them in trouble on several occasions.

Blake laughed, "Yeah, Josh you gotta hear this one." 

"Yeah," Andrew added, "Right old barrel of laughs this one is." He motioned toward Caleb and made the impression that he was off his rocker with a hand gesture.

"Nah," Alex grinned, "It's more like…" he made a motion that signified a person drinking heavily.

"That's enough out of both of you." Caleb said.  Him being the basic ringleader of the group they stopped their teasing immediately.  "Anyway, as I was saying, this weeks is a bit elaborate."

"Just a bit," Cole muttered.

"Well, I don't really expect anyone to do it.  I've heard about a lot of upper class kids down in New York.  Any of them with family issues, they just take off."

"Like flying." Cole interjected. 

"Caleb either hadn't heard or chose to ignore him.  "They just up and leave in the middle of the night.  They become newsies or take up some other odd job in the city.  They take care of themselves for a few weeks and then go home.  By then their parents are just worried sick so of course they don't get punished."

Cole portrayed any of their mothers beautifully, "Oh darling, I'm so glad you're home.  You gave me and daddy such a fright."

Caleb leaned behind Madison and hit him soundly upside the head, "Shut up, why don't you.  Anyway, you get where I'm going with this."

"Yeah," Josh nodded, "and I agree with Andrew and Alex, you're either off your rocker or drunk.  I mean, us, running away and being newsies."

"In New York, it has to be there, I mean, don't you remember telling us about when you went there."

Josh sighed, "I was six Caleb.  And besides, how will we accomplish this entire feat in a week.  Just think about the cost man, to get a train all the way there and back again.  I mean none of us can exactly go ask our parents for that much money without them getting suspicious, and none of our parents are as free as yours with the bank accounts."

Caleb shrugged, "I never said we had to do it, but it was an idea.  I mean just think about all the freedom those guys must have.  They get up every morning, work whatever hours they want, and spend all their time with friends.  Most of them don't even go by their real names from what I head, make up nicknames, so no one can question whom they are. I heard about this hysterical name yesterday, supposedly there's some kid down in New York who goes by Spot."

They all began laughing at this, and as a group began coming up with something they could manage before the party's end.  Cole handed Josh the bottle of ale that they were continually passing around the table.  He took a swig and then passed it along to Andrew.  When it reached Madison and she took a sip he frowned.

"You know it's not ladylike to drink like that," he said.

She looked at him, "and when have you ever known me to act ladylike."

"Point taken."  

Cole was the one that came up with the dare for that week; stealing bottles of ale from behind the bar.  It wasn't a hard task for any of them, but it was the best anyone could come up with on such short notice.  

The daughters of the other wealthy men who were there came over often enough to ask for a dance but were always turned down.  It wasn't exactly a great night, and the music wasn't what they would have preferred.  This was unusual for a night at the Woods'.  Usually things went much better.

Caleb was the first to get fed up with the boredom. "Here, hold this." He handed Josh his cigarette, and stood up.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I," Caleb stated, "am going to ask Emma Waters to dance.  She only has eyes for you lately and I need something to do." 

Josh shrugged as his friend left and watched him and Emma dance.  It wasn't until he realized that his mother's gaze was on him that he noticed he was still holding the cigarette.  He quickly smothered it in the ashtray.  Oh, he was going to hear it for this later.  As she started over he quickly stood and asked Madison to dance with him.  Madison looked at him as if he were mad but then realized what he meant and gladly obliged.

The subject of the cigarette, however, did not escape him for long.  It was all they talked about on the way back to the house.

"I can't believe you Joshua, what have your father and I told you about smoking?  Even if we were to allow you to smoke you're still much to young. And don't think I didn't see the lot of you passing around that bottle.  I mean, a little champagne on special occasions is fine, but drinking at a weekly get together, Joshua I thought you knew better."

He couldn't even bet a word in so he let his mother continue her ranting.  It was best to just let her get it out of her system quickly.

"And dancing with that Black girl.  She's new money, what have we told you about associating with her."

"I asked her to dance mother; not marry me."

"Don't even joke about that.  Dancing and talking is where it starts.  I know how you teenagers think, and how you act.  Before you know it you'd have to marry her and-"

"Mother!" He couldn't believe what she was suggesting.  He turned to his father for help.  The man just sat there looking amused.  At least they were pulling up in front of the house. His mother only continued as they went inside.

"I'm only looking out for your best interests Joshua, really.  It isn't good for your image to be seen associating with a girl like that, much less dancing with her…"

If his mother said anything else he didn't hear it.  He made his way swiftly up the stairs without her noticing, and ducked into Henry's room.  He walked over to his brother's bed and whispered, "Night buddy."

"Mr. Wainrib?" The young nanny was awake behind him, "What are you…"

"It's Josh, Marie, call me Josh."

"I'm sorry," she muttered, "Josh what are you doing in here at this time of night?"

"Avoiding my parents," he turned to look at her, "Marie, what's it like to be… not rich.  Caleb was talking about newsies and other working kids down in New York.  Is it really like he says, is there more freedom."

She made a sound in the back of her throat that could have resembled a laugh, "Well, think of it as how much you hate being under your parents' rules."

"Yeah…"

"It's like that.  I was told I had to take this job when I was fourteen.  Most of the kids that work need to work.  There's some freedom I guess, but you really can't enjoy it."

He nodded, "Thanks, g'night."

She mumbled a reply as he left.

Once upstairs he undressed and threw on his nightclothes before collapsing into bed.  He'd catch hell tomorrow for not paying attention to his mother, but no worse that usual.  He expected it.  Maybe he could be up and out doing something before she was awake.  He heard the clock downstairs chime two and rolled over; maybe not.

A/N: ok, so this story doesn't have the newsies in it yet, but it will I promise.  It's just a spur of the moment idea I had and wrote so there may not be quick updates.  This guy I'm using is actually a real person, so I would appreciate if none of you used him.  I hope you guys like this though, and some reviews wouldn't hurt either.

Forever roaming the rooftops,

~Hotshot~~~

Random plug:

Go read 'How I spent my summer vacation' by Studentnumber24601


	2. It's MY Life

Disclaimer: Yeah, I own the characters that were in the past chapter, Emma Waters, and Josh's parents.  Josh really owns himself, but I like to torture him and he doesn't care.  The newsies, though nameless, belong to this small company called Disney, maybe you've heard of them.

Ivy League

Chapter Two

By Hotshot

            It was three months later that the letter his parents had seemingly been waiting for their entire lives arrived.  A letter came stating that he'd been granted early acceptance to Harvard University.  His parents were absolutely thrilled with the news and began planning a massive celebration to of course gloat to the rest of the New Hampshire high society.

            Joshua in all honesty didn't care; it even made him angry to find that he'd been accepted.  His parents had not even told him when they'd sent in his application.  With his grades there was no way Harvard had actually accepted him without a small 'donation' from his father. He'd been hoping that college would be a chance for him to show what he was capable of, but no, it was all about his parents showing off their wealth _again_.  

            He had no say in the matter either.  No matter how often he insisted that he didn't want to be a lawyer his parents would only continually insist that he didn't know what he wanted. 

            "You're too young to know what you want Joshua," was his mothers favorite saying.

            His reply was always the same, "Then how do you know what I want?"

            She never answered him, but only walked out of the room insisting that she had some important planning to do.

            He spent his days that week as far out of her path as he could.  He played outside with Henry for constant hours and when his brother slept he kicked a ball around the yard, just to keep himself from having to hear about how smart, or lucky he was.  He heard that enough in the first day after he received the letter to last him the rest of his life.

            For the big night his mother had bought him yet another new suit.  The only thing his mother was good at was picking out colors that suited him well; the suit was blue again, though darker than usual.  He dressed; making sure the suit was creaseless and everything was perfectly done.  His mother could be heard from the top of the stairs running around and checking that every last detail was perfect.

            "Oh, darling, you look wonderful," she cooed as he reached the bottom of the stairs, "Why don't you stand here and meet the guests with your father."

            The wealthy families began arriving shortly thereafter and he spent several hours greeting them and thanking them for coming.  It seemed each couple that came in handed him a check to be added to his savings.  It was as if his parents couldn't pay for his education themselves.

            The Black's were the last to arrive, and under the wrathful eye of his mother Joshua asked Madison to accompany him to dinner.  He couldn't help bit grin at the seething look his mother gave him.  She did manage to keep her ladylike composure and took his father's arm.

            "So," Madison said as they started down the hall, "Harvard, huh?"

            "Yeah," he agreed, focusing solely on getting through the night.  

            "I thought they only let really smart people in there."

            He grinned at her attempt to joke, "Yeah, well as long as I've got a wealthy backer I'm in."

            "Ah," she nodded in understanding.  She released his arm as they reached the dining room and started toward her parents' table.  Josh took a seat next to his father, which was as far from his mother as he could get, unfortunately it also placed him next to Emma Waters.  The girl had a tendency to talk a persons ear off.

            It wasn't until about halfway through the meal that his father rose from his chair and called for silence.  Josh immediately knew what he was doing and his freckles soon blended perfectly with the blush across his cheeks.

            "I believe it is tradition for a father to give a toast when his son receives an honor such as this.  Fist I must say that Anita and I are very proud of our son's performance both at and outside of school.  At school he keeps up excellent grades and stays out of trouble.  He presents himself in a very conscious manner and is smart enough to know where he does and does not belong.  This quality may well be one of the reasons that Harvard chose him to be part of their early acceptance class.  Though he will not be going there for another year they have still accepted him.  I could not be any prouder."  He raised his glass in a toast.

            Josh blushed and nodded.  He chanced a glance in his friends' direction to find them trying to hold in their laughter.  Every word his father had said was completely the opposite of what they knew of him.  

            As soon as the plates had been cleared he stood to meet up with them, but his mother caught his arm.

            "Darling, why don't you go dance with Emma?" she suggested.

            "But Mother-"

            "It will be good for your image to be seen with someone like her."

            Regrettably he did ask the young lady to dance.  After what had to be the longest dance in history he escaped her grasp on him and quickly dodged through the crowd.  He pulled up a chair to the usual corner table and reached for the ale that was being passed around.  He quickly drained the rest of it, and let his forehead meet the top of the table.

            "I thought you had to be smart to go to Harvard." Cole started.

            "Bite me," Josh raised his head only to glare at his friend, "And no actually, I was just telling Madison when we came in here.  All you need is a dad who's willing to pay everybody off." 

            "Ah," Andrew nodded, "then you are the perfect candidate."  They all laughed at that.  Most of the boys added in their two-cents on the subject as well before it was dropped.

            "So, what's the dare this week?" Josh asked, leaning back in his chair.

            Blake shook his head, "No dare today.  C'mon man, this party is all about you.  We don't need to go causing trouble.  But if you insist we could always just to the typical drop some ice down someone's dress."

            "Now you're talking."  Josh grinned; he was sick of being polite and just going along with this.

            "So are you volunteering to go first?" Alex questioned.

            Josh nodded, "You bet."  He scooped a piece of ice out of Andrew's drink.  "Now where is Miss Waters?"

            "Emma?" The boys laughed as he spotted his target.  They watched carefully as he approached her, though she didn't seem to notice him.  He was careful and deliberate in each step he took.  About a foot from her he faked a trip and managed to drop the ice down the front of her dress.

            Emma Waters let out a screech that caught everyone's attention.  The room went silent and Josh's friends tried to smother their laughter.

            "You twit!" Emma exclaimed, "You did that on purpose."

            "I did no such thing Emma." He insisted, "I am so sorry."

"You did it on purpose.  Honestly, you'd think someone of your status would amount to something better than those filthy children living on the streets."  She quickly stalked off toward the washroom.  

As the noise in the room began slowly to increase again Josh turned back to his friends.  He was quickly intercepted by his mother, however, and followed into his father's office.

"How could you do something like that?"

"Like what Mother?  It was an accident."

"Joshua, don't you dare try to pull that," His mother's face grew redder and redder as she spoke.  "I know about the little bets you and your friends make every week.  I know the lot of you like to cause trouble."

"I'm sorry," he apologized looking at his feet.

"Emma was right though, you do act more like those teenagers that roam the streets than a young man who will be attending Harvard in a year.  Those friends of yours are a bad enough influence on you, especially that Madison and Caleb.  I want you to stop associating with them-"

"Mother," he shouted, "They're my friends, and I come up with just as much as them.  Who do you want me to start spending time with, Emma and her friends."

His mother only gave him a look that clearly said yes.

"I can't believe you're suggesting that.  No, absolutely not.  Mother, her friends are completely stuck up and-"

"Joshua you are going to Harvard next year.  Being around people like her will be good for your image, for our family's image.  In ten years you can have graduated, become a successful lawyer, married Emma.  You could already have a family of your own."

"I wouldn't marry Emma if my life depended on it!" It was a yelling match between the two of them now.  

"Joshua, I want you to be a successful lawyer.  If you know the wrong people it could ruin your career."

"I don't want to be a lawyer, Mother.  I don't even want to go to Harvard."

"You are too young to know what you want.  I've told you that a hundred times Joshua."

"Really, and when will I be old enough to make my own decisions.  Ah, never, I forgot, you'll always make them for me."

"You are young and ignorant to how the world works.  Someday you'll thank me.  I know what you really want."

"How the hell do you know what I want?  You never have, never.  You have never once asked me what I wanted to do, what I wanted to be.  It was always, stick him in these clothes and make him take these classes.  My whole Goddamn life was planned before I was even born.  And you expect me to just take all this without a fight."

"You may not realize everything that your father and I have been doing for you over the past few years.  We're giving you your only chance at a good future."

"Yeah, you're helping me.  Paying off all my teachers to give me passing grades.  I mean Dad even had to pay them to get me into Harvard.  Not that I ever asked you to send in an application but still…"

"I am your mother.  I think I know the help you need to-"

"Yes, you are my mother, but I'll be damned if you ever acted like it.  My entire life you shoved me off onto other people as often as you could.  And once I got old enough to actually think for myself everything I did deserved punishment."

"Don't play games with me young man, you will not win."

"No Mother, of course not.  Now is not the time to play games.  It never has been.  There's no time to play or be anything but serious.  And you know, if I ever joke around I get bitched at by you-"

"Joshua Benjamin-"

"Don't stop me now Mother, I'm on a roll.  I have hated living here as long as I can remember.  Hated being under your control, and doing what you wanted.  Ok, so you and Dad got me into a good school, I would rather have gotten into the worst school in the country if it meant I could have done it myself.  You never even gave me a fucking chance.  And you expect me to love you like I did when I was a kid.  It isn't possible.  You know what, you say I act like one of those kids on the streets.  I'd rather be one of them than your son."

With that said he turned and stormed from the room.  As he strode through the dining he noticed the entire room was just again breaking into conversation after a long silence.  They'd heard the entire thing.  'Great' he thought, something else for them to gossip about.  He stalked right past them and out onto the nearly empty balcony in the back.      

Those who were on the balcony immediately left at his presence.  He enjoyed the quiet and took several deep breaths, leaning heavily on the railing as he did so.  He was going to be in so much trouble when all of the guests left.  Neither of his parents had struck him in years, but he could just picture his father's reaction to what he'd said about his mother.  These thoughts were probably the reason he jumped when a hand came down on his shoulder.

"Calm down, man, it's just me." Caleb quickly released him and Josh let out a shaky breath.

"Don't do that Caleb," he muttered.  He ran a hand through his hair and sat back against the railing.  

"Sorry," Caleb grinned, "You and your mom sure had a battle tonight huh?"  He pulled out and lit a cigarette as he spoke, "You were pretty brutal to her."

"It was the truth," Josh insisted, "I hate her more than anyone knows.  She just tries to control everything about my life.  Every little aspect has to be ok'd by her.  I mean I'm supposed to let her tell me who to be friends with, and what to do with my life.  At least your parents let you breathe a little, y'know…"

"Yeah," Caleb nodded, "It sucks man, but what can you do about it?" He took a deep drag on his cigarette.

"How can you smoke those things?  They smell so awful."

Caleb shrugged, "You get used to it after a while.  They calm my nerves.  Don't you remember, I started a few years ago when my parents were going berserk about everything?"

"Yeah, but I doubt I can do anything to get my parents of my back."

Caleb nodded and pulled something out of his pocket.  It was a sealed envelope.  He handed it to Josh, "This is from me and the others. It is tradition ain't it?"

"Please tell me it's not more money."

"It's still money, but it's cash.  You can spend it on whatever you want and they can't stop you.  So go buy yourself something nice, go on a trip, do something that'll get you out of here for a day."

As Caleb had spoken an idea suddenly came across Josh's mind, "How much is in there?"

Caleb mumbled a good amount.

"That's enough for me to go down to New York for a month and come back," he said.  He looked over at his friend, "I could go down to New York."

"What are you talking about?"

"Remember your dare a few moths ago; going and being a newsie down in New York.  I could do it Caleb.  I could get down there now."

Caleb looked at him for a minute, "You really hat it here, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do.  Everything except hanging around with you guys is awful."

"Then you should go," Caleb said.  "I know there's a train that leaves early in the morning.  Seven AM.  I would be willing to drop you off if you could sneak out that early.  But are you sure."

Josh grinned, "I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life."

Less than an hour later he was upstairs talking to Marie again.  He questioned her quickly about what he would have to do to survive in New York. He had to wear his older clothes to blend, and find a lodging house to stay out were the most important facts he believed he gathered.  He simply ignored her when she asked why he wanted to know.  

Up in his room he locked the door and changed.  As soon as the party was over his parents would be up and there would be no stop to the yelling.  He pulled out the drawstring bag he taken from Marie's room and stuffed it full of clothes and things he could think of that he'd need.  The most expensive thing he'd packed was a pocket watch.  He also made sure the envelope of money was stashed safely in his bag.  He quickly stripped off his suit from dinner and into one of his more beaten up ensembles.  He stretched out on his bed like that and scrawled two quick letters on his small night table.  Each of them was shoved in an envelope and left on the table.

It was over an hour later that the unavoidable finally occurred.  His parents came upstairs.  He heard his doorknob shake as his mother tried to open it.  Upon finding it was locked she began banging on the door.  He made no move to get up knowing that if they thought he was asleep they would leave. Seeing as he wasn't in the mood to be lectured he ignored the banging.  Sure enough his father's voice could be heard a few seconds later.

"Anita, the boy is sleeping.  We'll deal with this in the morning."

"He is not asleep.  He is awake, Michael.  He is awake and sitting in there laughing at us."

"Anita, listen to yourself.  Shush for a minute, do you hear him laughing?"

"No."

"That's because he's sleeping.  I promise you I will deal with his display in the morning."

"He swore at me Michael.  Me, his own mother.  He told me that he would rather live on those filthy streets than here."

"I heard him Anita," His voice rose slightly, "And trust me I shall see that he is punished."  Josh's father wasn't stupid.  He knew Josh was awake, and listening to every word they said.  Josh also knew his father had a skeleton key that could open any lock in the house, including Josh's bedroom.  His mother, however, often drove his father insane as well so she didn't know about the key.  Josh listened as their footsteps echoed down the hall.

*            *            *

He'd barely slept and was sitting at the window when Caleb's carriage pulled up in front of it the next morning.  He slipped quietly out of his room and past several others to the stairs.  On the second floor he slipped the two letters under Henry and Marie's bedroom door.  Henry's was for when he was older, in case Josh chose not to return.  It was doubtful, but just in case.

"Did you sleep at all?" Caleb asked as he climbed into the coach.

Josh shook his head, "Barely."

They didn't talk much on their way to the train station but when the coach stopped they both sat in silence for a moment.  Caleb spoke first, "Y'know, out of all of us that could have carried out the dare, I least suspected it'd be you."

Josh shrugged, "Well life is full of surprises ain't it."  He took the money from the envelope and took what he needed for a train ride there was well as a few extra dollars.  He handed the rest to Caleb.  Keep this for me, I'll write you if I need more."

"Don't hesitate to write.  As soon as you run out of money I want a letter.  You can take it out of my bank account."

 "I will.  Thank you Caleb.  Tell everyone else the same as well."

"I will," Caleb watched as Josh climbed out of the carriage, "Hey Josh!"

"Yeah."

"Did you think of a nickname yet?"

"I got a whole train ride to do it."

He approached the ticket booth and looked at the old man inside, "One way to New York, please."  The old man only repeated the price and handed him a ticket.  No questions were even asked as he boarded the train by himself.  He took a seat by the window in the back of the train.  He didn't look as wealthy as he usually did so no one took much notice.  

The train pulled out of the station but he surprisingly remained clam.  Exhaustion overcame him as he had barely slept the night before and he let his eyelids start to drift closed.  "Wake me when we get to New York," he spoke to no one in particular

Several hours later another young man on the train was shaking him awake.  "What's wrong?" he asked sitting up, "Is there a problem with the train?"

The man laughed, "You said to wake you when we got to New York.  Just thought I should let you know we'll be at the station in a few minutes."

"Oh, thank you." Josh mumbled sitting up.  He collected his things and out of habit began to straighten his clothes.  The train pulled to a stop inside a crowded station and he stood to stretch his legs.  He made his way slowly off the train and through the station.  Without really picking a direction he began walking, avoiding exceptionally large crowds of people.  

He caught sight of himself in a shop window and grinned at his tattered-looking reflection.  He wore a worn pair of brown leather boots, dirty brown pants and a stained undershirt.  The blue shirt he had buttoned over that was reasonable clean but very old and worn.  He had a vest on over that and a simple pocket watch attached.  There was a hat and a jacket in the bag, along another set of clothes.  To anyone ho had seen him he had to look like a mangy, young newsboy.

He wandered through the streets, trying to stop several people for directions.  Each one pushed him away with nothing but a look of disgust on their faces.  He grumbled to himself and began to just wander aimlessly.  He would either find it on his own or eventually find a newsboy who could show him where it was.  

After a few hours he found himself actually blending with the crowds a little.  He was a bit wary of large groups of people in the city, but it stopped bothering him when he noticed most were poorer citizens, not rich.

He was stopped on a busy street corner looking around for any person that could possibly help him when it happened.  He wouldn't have noticed had he not looked back at the right moment.  He turned his head the smallest bit just in time to see a young boy remove his pocket watch.  One word escaped his lips, "Hey!"

The boy's eyes grew wide as he looked up.  Obviously he was not usually caught for he froze momentarily.  He did regain his senses quickly though.  In a second he had turned and was starting to run off.  "Stop, thief." Josh cried out. Before taking off after him.

An older man near him felt his pocket as Josh yelled and found that his wallet was missing.  He turned to Josh as he was usually played tricks on like this, with more than one boy involved.  "Police stop that thief."  A nearby officer started toward him."

Josh has stopped momentarily, but realized he would not be able to explain his way out of the situation started running again.  He quickly sighted the boy who has stolen his watch and followed him.  If this boy was confident enough to pick pockets then he had to know his way around the city reasonably well.

He was right.  The boy led him on a wild goose chase through a series of alleyways and side streets.  He also led through a shop or two and what seemed to be a theater hall. Had the situation not been so serious at the moment Josh would have found it funny.  He was following a young thief who thought the boy behind him was going to kill him while himself being followed by the police for a crime he had not committed.  He didn't even worry about his pocket watch, now all he wanted was to get away from the police following him.  Even if they didn't find the old man's wallet on him by now they would probably just arrest him for resisting arrest.  He just wished the younger boy would slow down a little so they could help each other.

The young boy in front of him took a quick right around a corner.  Josh rounded it just behind him but the boy was nowhere to be seen.  He panicked for a moment before hearing a door to his right click shut.  His eyes landed on the weathered sign above the door 'Newsboys Lodging House'.  He almost laughed, but saved his breath and dashed inside.  

He slammed the door behind him and glanced out the window, watching as the police officers sailed past.  Once he believed they were really gone he made his way deeper into the building.  He heard an out of breath voice rambling off a story.

"And so he was chasing me and the police were chasing him.  They should have been chasing me though," The young boy panted in front of another two, both older.  "I was the one that took the old guys wallet.  The guy I stole the pocket watch from, damn he was fast.  If I ever see him again I'd give his watch back to him, if he still wanted it that is…"

"And he still wants it back." Josh said.

The boy spun around with a look of horror on his face.  One of the boys he had been speaking with approached while the other hung back, a smirk on his face.  The look on the approaching boys face was threatening, but at the same time didn't hold the same promise of injury or death as many of the street thugs he'd approached that day.

"And who might you be?" he asked.

Josh me the boy's eyes.  Suddenly he was terrified, thinking he'd made a mistake, but there was not turning back now.  He had come here for a reason and had to see it through.  As he opened his mouth to give him his name Caleb's last words echoed through his head.  "Did you think of a nickname yet?" Without a nickname he was just a rich boy trying to be one of them.  He closed his mouth.  He needed a name, and now.

"Well." The boy insisted.

            "Harvard," he said the first word that came to mind, "I'm Harvard."

            A/N: Yay, the second chapter is finished, and Josh still hasn't asked to see how I'm writing this.  I don't think he actually thinks I am writing it.  ::Shrugs:: Well I have big plans for this story but I probably won't get to them.  I'm going on vacation starting Saturday for a week, and will have just about no computer access.  I will try to get on at my grandparent's house when we go over but it doesn't look that promising.  

            Yes, the newsies are finally in this.  Only three so far, but still they're here.  I haven't decided if I should put Josh in Brooklyn or Manhattan.  He's in Manhattan right now but I'm highly considering moving him to Brooklyn, and just wait until he meets the almighty Spot.  As for any bonus points, I'll give freshly baked chocolate covered newsies to anyone who can guess the three newsies that Josh/Harvard has already met.  Two of them should be fairly obvious but the third one didn't have much to say.  Good Luck, and I will work over vacation, promise.

            Ah, a week of adding to my already sun burnt body on the cape.  With my family, how fun… 

Shout outs:

Chicago:  Like I said, wait until he meets Spot.  How's he going to know he's a famous leader?  Get where I'm going with this.

Studentnumber24601: I think that will become a thing for every chapter, and it's a good story so…  That paragraph bugged me a little too when I read through it but I just left it.  As for his mother, sometime I'd love to just scream at my parents like he does in this chapter.  The real Josh actually has numerous fights like this. ::mumbles:: Brat gets away with murder.

Morning Dew:  Yeah, Caleb and Madison are some of the cooler characters I think I've created, and I definitely have too many.  You'll probably still see, or hear a lot of them in the fic.  That Spot one.  I love it, I think I reviewed under one of my names.

Hope you all enjoyed!  Leave more reviews and I'll write a chapter the day I get back.

Plug:

'Justify the Thrill' by Exempt From Sanity (Medieval theme)


	3. Grouchy old man and new friends

Disclaimer:  Josh really owns himself but Harvard is mine.  Same goes for the other characters from New Hampshire.  The rest of the boys are Disney's, except Ruin who is briefly mentioned and belongs to Keza.

Ivy League

Chapter 3

By Hotshot

            "Harvard?" The boy in front of him raised an eyebrow skeptically.  It was quite obvious that he didn't know what to make of the boy in front of him.  He had after all chased a thief through the streets of New York and into an unknown lodging house.  No sane New York newsie would do that outside their own territory and Harvard definitely wasn't one of his.

            Meanwhile Josh was standing and watching the newsie look him up and down.  He was getting worried, as the other two remained silent.  What would this boy do to him?  The silence tempted him to just turn and leave.  As he was about to bolt the newsie spit in his hand and stuck it out, "The name's Jack Kelly."

            Ignoring any logic that his parents had tried to drill into him over the years Josh found himself spitting in his own palm and shaking hands with the leader, "Nice to meet you Jack."

            "Harvard?" one of the boys by the stairs spoke.  He was short, and obviously Italian.  "What kind of a name is that?  Ain't Harvard some big school up north?"

            Josh shrugged, playing it off like he didn't know much, "I guess, my parents just commented a while ago that I'd never be able to go there."

            "Where are your parents?" Jack asked.

            "Died a few months back in a fire."  Josh was surprised at the lies that were flowing quite freely from, his mouth.

            Jack smiled, "Where ya from kid, I ain't never seen you before?"

            "New Jersey."

            "Well, Harvard," Jack slung an arm around the boys shoulder, "This here is Racetrack," he pointed to the Italian, "And you already met Snitch."

            "Seems appropriate," Josh scowled at the young thief.

            Snitch managed a grin and then bolted for the stairs.  Racetrack was faster however, and grabbed him by the suspenders.  He gave a pull that sent Snitch flying backward onto the floor.  He grinned innocently up at the short Italian.

            "Well," Racetrack prodded him in the side with a heavy boot, "weren't you saying you was gonna give it back if you ever saw him again?"

            Snitch quickly jumped too his feet and yanked the watch out of his pocket.  He tossed it agilely to Josh.  "Sorry," he apologized hastily.

            "Forget it," Josh shrugged.  He turned to Jack, "Listen, I know it's a rarity 'round here, but are there any open beds?"

            "Could be," Jack nodded, "Every night there's a guy or two that don't show up.  If they do you're welcome to share a bed.  I wouldn't, but you're welcome to.  You got payment?"

            "How much?"

            "Two cents a night, Saturday and Sunday are a penny."

            Josh dug the money out of his pocket.  As he did so Jack yelled loudly, "Kloppman, we got a new kid.  He's got money for you."

            A man so old he looked as though he was going to keel over any second stumbled out of a small office.  "Can I help you?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

            Josh handed him twelve cents, "That's my lodging for the week, sir.  What else do I need to do?"

            Kloppman, as it seemed the old man was called pushed a small, beaten looking logbook in front of him.  "Put in your nickname every night when you come in, and only your nickname.  I don't ever want to know your real name.  If I don't know it I can't say nothing about you.  And just 'cause you pay now doesn't guarantee you a bed."

            "I understand, sir."

            "And will you stop with that damn, sir business, it's Kloppman."  Before he could answer the man had turned and retreated to his solitary room.

            Josh watched him retreat and smirked, "Grouchy old man."  He signed his name into the book using a beaten old pencil.  He felt a breath on his neck and turned as he finished.  The boy called Racetrack was standing directly behind him.  Jack and Snitch it seemed had disappeared upstairs.

            "You got really neat handwriting," He commented.

            Josh shrugged, "Nothing a public school education wouldn't get you."  He watched as Racetrack pulled the stub of a cigar out of his pocket and raised it to his lips in what seemed to be a nervous habit.  

            "Right," He didn't seem sincere, "Listen, call me Race, not Racetrack."

            "Alright, Race.  By the way thanks for that help wi-"

            "Forget it, really.  Forget I helped you.  Now listen, I don't care where you come from and how things get run there.  When you go out selling with the rest of the boys tomorrow, I'll warn you now, Sheepshead is mine.  I catch you within sight of that and you're a dead man.  You play cards?"

            Josh nodded mutely.  

            "You're playing me tonight.  Poker, Blackjack, whatever; I don't care.  Just a warning, keep some back up cash for tomorrow.  Whatever you pick I'm gonna win."  He turned away and began up the stairs toward the noise Jack and Snitch had made upon what he guessed was a half full bunkroom.  Josh just watched after him.

            He heard laughing from the other side of the room and jumped.  A lanky boy with a mess of brown hair stood from a chair in the corner.  "What are you laughing at?" he growled.

            "Just Race," the boy said, "Don't pay any attention to his tough guy act.  He's just really protective of his selling spot.  Had it since he was eight or nine, I think.  And he's supposedly the best card player in New York.  Just lose to him at poker and you'll be fine.  Even if you try you'll lose, trust me.  But don't accuse him of cheating."

            "How do you know all this?" Josh asked the boy.

            "I'm pretty good friends with Race.  He's like that to all the new kids.  He's really a nice guy though.  Being short, he makes up for it with having an attitude.  Just hang around for a while and you'll get to like him, he's hysterical."

            "Thanks," Josh mumbled, "So who're you?"

            "Skittery," the boy introduced himself.

            "Harvard."

            "I know," Skittery said as they shook hands.  He looked over Josh's shoulder at the logbook, "And you know you're wrong?"

            "About what?"

            "Not too many of the guys here have a public school education, but those of them who have, myself included can't even write that neatly." He pointed to Josh's signature.  "Well, except Specs but he's a special case."

            "What are you getting at?" Josh asked, for the first time since Jack had greeted him he felt nervous.  

            Skittery held up his hands in a peace offering, "I ain't saying nothing.  Personally I don't care where the hell you came from and why the fuck you showed up here, but some of the guys might care that you ain't as poor as you pretend to be."  He shrugged, "but like I said, I don't care."

            Josh watched the boy as he started up the stairs.  He could leave now and they wouldn't miss him.  He could find somewhere else to stay and not make the same mistake there.  He looked out at the darkened city and immediately changed his mind.  He'd heard about cities at nights.

            "Harvard!" Skittery's voice brought him back to reality.  The tall boy was leaning over the railing looking down at him, "you gonna come up and meet some of the fellas or what?"

            Josh quickly started up the stairs after him.  This was, after all, his time to make mistakes and live life day by day.  If he made a mistake, no matter how drastic, his parents were not there to get after him for it for the next month.  He was really his own person. 

            He followed Skittery into a large room filled with old, wooden bunk beds.  Each held a mattress and very few held a thin blanket or pillows.  Clothes, hats, papers and a few personal items littered the room.  The floor was coarse wood and the walls remained undecorated.  There were doors leading to what he guessed was a washroom and a few windows leading out to fire escapes.

            As for the people in the room, other than Jack, Snitch, Race, and Skittery there were very few.  Snitch introduced him to two boys.  Itey looked similar to Snitch except for his dark hair.  His skin as well was different, being darker like that of Race and any other Italian.  Jake was pudgy boy with a simple bowl haircut.  He was pale and extremely quiet.

            Jack introduced him to Mush.  Josh couldn't decide if he was Latino or partly black, but then he didn't particularly care.  He was reasonably tall, and built well for sports, if he'd known what they were.  He had curly hair was cut short.

            Along with him there was Kid Blink, his name usually shortened to one or the other, a tall, lanky blonde boy with an eye patch over his left eye.  He had a lit cigarette between his lips.  Josh couldn't quite decide if the patch was there for a reason or if it was just a ploy to sell more papers.

            As time went on more boys began to flood into the room, sometimes in groups, but more often than not by themselves.  In the period of an hour he met Snipeshooter, Boots, Specs, Crutchy, Dutchy, Snoddy, Swifty, and Bumlets.  There were plenty of others that came in and would undoubtedly be many more at the distribution center the next morning.  He knew already that it would take him a while to get names straight.

            His things had been thrown onto an empty cot once he'd come upstairs.  Other boys changed or threw extra layers of clothes onto what he guessed were their usual bunks.  He just sat on his bunk observing them as card games started between older boys, marbles between the kids.  He was trying to pick up on things they did and ways he could act to seem more like them. 

            "Harvard."

The name was called three times before he realized it was him they were talking to.  He looked into a corner of the room.

Race held up a deck of cards, "Come play."

Josh stood and stumbled over to the group.  He took a seat across from Race, between Skittery and a boy named Dutchy.  Race dealt the cards before asking, "You know how to play?"

"I ain't stupid," Josh snapped, he'd known how to play poker for years.  

A grin crept across Racetrack's face and he lifted a cigar stub to his lips, "okay then, let's play."

Just as Skittery had said, Race was _very_ good.  Josh managed to win a few hands but Race was the overall winner.  Josh backed out respectfully after several rounds.  

"I can't lose all my money, gotta sell tomorrow," was his excuse.  Race accepted it with a smirk.  Josh bit his lip, thinking of his friends.  Madison would have slapped him for something like that.

The thin mattress was uncomfortable to say the least and he tossed and turned on it until he landed in a comfortable position.  He watched the younger, and some would say smarter, boys climb into bed early.  He was amazed that they could fall asleep so easily despite the noise.

He became deeply engrossed in a conversation with Skittery, a Latino boy named Bumlets, and two bespectacled newsies named Specs and Dutchy.  Not really about anything in particular, but talking, avoiding going to sleep.

"It's past curfew," Specs said as he returned to the room checking his watch, "Pie isn't back yet."

"He'll get in, doesn't he always?" Bumlets asked.

A banging on the door made Harvard jump, but the others seemed to be used to it.  The old man, Kloppman, stood in the doorway with a broom. 

"Alright, that's enough yapping out of the lot of you.  Lights out, and I don't want to hear another peep out of this room tonight.  You're up at five thirty tomorrow."

He blew out the two candles by the door and several boys blew out ones scattered around the room.  After the pounding of his feet on the stairs was gone a few of the candles were relit.  Conversations started up around the room where they had left off, but more quietly.

None of the boys around Josh had moved.  Specs, Skittery and Bumlets remained one Specs' bunk and Dutchy sat on Josh's.

"Pie can take care of himself if he doesn't get back," Dutchy shrugged, rounding off their conversation.

"So Harvard," Specs played absentmindedly with the fedora in his hands as he spoke, "Where'd your name come from?  After Harvard University?"

Josh laughed, "Unfortunately, my parents wanted me to go there.  My grades aren't good enough though, and before they died they commented that there was no way I'd ever be able to raise them enough to go there."

"Sorry about your parents," Dutchy said.

Josh shrugged.  He didn't like the pity they were giving him, especially since it was for a lie.  "Not like I really knew them that well anyway.  Stayed out of the house as much as I could."

There was a sudden knock on the window and they all turned.  A boy stood outside waving at the group Josh was sitting with.  

Bumlets laughed, "Pie's back."

"We can see that bonehead," Skittery interjected, "Why don't you go let him in?"

Bumlets got up from his seat and walked across the room.  He slid the window open and put a finger to his lips to emphasis quiet.  "If Kloppman catches you he'll kick you out."

"I'm well aware."  The tall lanky, boy slid in the window.  His pale, yellow shirt was unbuttoned halfway to show his undershirt.  His hair was a mess and there was a hat in his hands.

"So where were you, Pie?" Race asked, "Out with Ruin again?"

"None a your business." He snapped back, but his cheeks turned bright red at the suggestion.

He came back and sat with Skittery and Bumlets, "Who's this?"

Skittery motioned with his hands as he spoke, "Pie this is Harvard, Harvard this here is Pie Eater.  Snitch stole a watch offa him and Harvard chased him back here."

The groups were starting to disperse and got to bed, all except for Race's small poker game.  Skittery and the other boys did so as well.  Dutchy and Bumlets found their bunks empty and Skittery just climbed onto the one above Specs.  

Pie wandered over to an empty bunk.  "Hey Snitch," he said, "share a bunk with Itey tonight, huh?"

The response was less than polite but he didn't seem to hear it as he stretched out, making himself at home.  

"Isn't Kloppman gonna catch him in the morning?" Josh asked.

Specs shrugged, "Depends, sometimes Kloppman doesn't remember who signed in and who didn't.  If he does worse that'll happen is he'll have to pay a little extra."

All of the candles went out, except the lone one at the poker table.  Josh rolled over to watch the group play.  It was Race, Jack, Snoddy, and Swifty if he remembered correctly.  One candle sat in the middle of the table and as the other boys began to snore they just went on with their game.  One by one the boys all dropped out, claiming they needed the sleep.  Race was the last one left sitting there, shuffling his cards, a cigar stump stuck between his lips.  Josh wondered for a minute if this boy ever slept; even his eyelids were getting heavy by now.  

Race carried the candle over to his bed after about ten minutes of sitting by his lonesome self.  He threw his vest and outer shirt to the end of his bed and kicked off his shoes and socks before climbing under the thin sheet and blowing out the candle.  The room plunged into darkness and Josh rolled over to fall asleep.

*    *    *

            Morning came far too early.  Josh was awoken at some ungodly hour by a hoarse old man yelling and banging a broom on the wooden bunk frames.  It took him a moment to remember where he was and while his head told him to roll over and go back to sleep the rest of his body wasn't to fond of getting smacked with that broom.  He forced himself into a sitting position and watched as Specs curled into a ball under his sheet.

            "Specs!" Kloppman yelled as he past that particular bunk.  He kicked Specs' mattress as he poked Skittery, who was in the top bunk, with the broom handle.  "Both of you get you lazy asses out of bed!" 

            Skittery propped himself up on his elbows and mumbled something unintelligible, but surely aimed toward the old man as well.  Specs also forced himself to sit up.  He pulled on his glasses and looked at josh quickly.

            "I think I could learn to hate that man," Josh said, which made him laugh.  He quickly added, "Very soon too."

            They were pulling on various articles of clothing when Kloppman had to use desperate measures again, only this time it wasn't to wake someone up.

            "Pie Eater, what the hell are you doing in here?" The old man's yell was surprising. If you looked at him you would have thought him quiet.  "You didn't come in before curfew last night.  You sneaky little shit where's my rent."

            Pie dodged the room as he fumbled in his pockets to produce a nickel.  "Sorry Kloppman," he said, trying to keep a straight face.

            Specs looked up form where he was tying his shoes, "Told you so."

            Kloppman snatched the nickel from Pie and began to stalk around the room looking for stragglers as he lectured Pie.  "If you're ever late for curfew again I swear to God I'll throw you out to the streets, I swear I will.  Let you see what it's like to have to spend a night out there.  You won't be late again, no siree.  That goes for the lot of you."  He snapped his broom against a bed frame near a younger boy's head.  The boy was out of bed and pushing himself of the floor a second later.  Kloppman left the room mumbling about 'those goddamn lazy kids' under his breath.

            Josh stared after him, wide eyed and slack jawed.

            "Don't worry," Skittery said as he passed him, "Happens every morning.  You'll get used to it.  Now hurry or you'll be late."

            Josh nearly jumped as he realized he was only half dressed.  He jerked on his shirt and shoes and vaulted toward the bathroom.  He found a comb that was being unused and quickly ran it through his hair, at least getting the 'just slept' look out of it. He cupped his hands under a running faucet and splashed the water on his face.  He yelled in surprise and jumped back.  

            "What's the matter?" Race gave him an inquisitive look.

            "That water's freezing!"

            Race snorted, "Well, yeah, what'd you expect?"

            Hoping not to embarrass himself further Josh shut up and dried his face on a nearby towel.  He followed the hordes of boys out the door and out of the lodging house.  Being completely unfamiliar with the area he followed them for several blocks.  As they went they grabbed a quick and tiny breakfast from some nuns and Josh even found himself joining in their joking around.  They finally came to a stop in front of a large set of gates.  There were other groups, supposedly from different lodging houses and several girls gathered there as well.  

            There was no getting to the front of the line when they were let in but he wasn't exactly in the back either.  He watched the newsies in front of him pay for their papers, a few making cracks about the man behind the barred window.  Josh wondered why until he saw the man.  He was short, fat and smelled something awful.  A young, stocky boy stood next to him, bent over a cart of papers. 

            "Fifty," Josh requested, as it was the amount most had taken.  He threw a quarter under the bar and once he received his papers commented, "And sir, when was the last time you bathed?"  

            The glare the man sent at him made him run down the ramp.  Most of the boys form his lodging house were clustered around the gates chatting, not yet ready to begin selling.  He joined them and took a seat on a nearby barrel as he scanned the headlines.

            "Alright fellas," Jack said as he started off, "I'll see ya at Tibby's around lunch or tonight." 

            That began a chain reaction and the entire group began to walk onto the streets.  They quickly began yelling headlines.  Josh guessed that they were on their way to selling spots and figured he'd follow and find a place where no one was selling.  He yelled the first headline that caught his eye.  

            By the time the crowd was thinning out he still had yet to sell a single paper.  He continued to yell the headline though.  "Ambassador visits white house!"  No one even looked his way, well except for the only newsie still anywhere near him.

            "What are you doing?" Race turned and asked him.

            "Selling papers," Josh looked at him.

            Race stopped walking all together, "You've never sold before have you?"

            "Of course I…" He trailed off, "No."

            Race sighed and looked around, "C'mon."

            "What?"

            "Come with me."

            He followed Race uncertainly.  Was this not the boy that had threatened him the past night?  The two of them walked into a large arena of sorts.  Josh quickly realized it to be a racetrack.

            "Welcome to Sheepshead bay," Race said at him.  "Now sell."

            Josh yelled the same headline.

            "Harvard, shut up," Race said after a minute, "You're embarrassing."  He looked at his paper and found the headline Josh was using.  "Ok, now try it like this."  He took a deep breath and yelled, "Extra! Extra!  White house affair wit' ambassador!"  Immediately people flocked to him, and to Harvard as well once he caught on to what Race meant him to do.

            Once the crowd was gone Race turned to him again.  "I don't want you hanging around here with me too long," he said, "So today, we are going to teach you the finer points of selling."

A/N: I'm not sure if that was a short chapter or not.  :: Shrug::  Anyway, I hope you guys liked it and I finally put in a bunch of newsies.  I hope Keza doesn't mind em using Ruin.  I know I said this story would be up sooner, and it took a bit so sorry, I had some other projects to work on and I still have summer reading to do.  I'll try to get another chapter up soon but I have color guard camp next week and the Tuesday after that school starts.  Ugh!

Plug:  'Above These Righteous Gods' by Keza: Queen of Procrastination.  I seem to have an obsession with medieval times and people need to tell her to update this.

Shout outs:

Morning Dew: I think you noticed some stuff I didn't mean to be important but that's good.  Strange how people can do that to other's writings.  You got two of them right so good job.     

Cards: ok, no more sugar for you.

B: Don't we all love Josh?  I don't know why but you can't get mad at the kid.  And Caleb is quickly going into a must-use-soon character.

Ginny: Oh hun, don't worry it grows on you.  My early stuff is horrible. 

Chicago:  Yeah, that's gonna be a fun little beat-up-josh scene to write.  ::snickers::

Miracle:  I actually didn't really think of adding girls until I saw your review, but I think I'm set.  Thanks for reading.

Also, I know I refer to him as Josh and the newsies call him Harvard.  That'll change to all Harvard when he get acclimated and stuff.  In other words once the real Josh is off at college.  As always leave em some feedback dude!"

~Hotshot~~~


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